


He Would Be More

by Jougetsu



Series: Venture Brothers Soulmate Marking AU [2]
Category: The Venture Bros
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Unrequited Love, Unresolved Emotional Tension, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-22
Updated: 2015-01-22
Packaged: 2018-03-08 14:54:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,909
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3213239
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jougetsu/pseuds/Jougetsu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rusty grew up with the unwavering belief that soulmate markings were for the weak-willed and he'd never have one appear. After all Jonas Venture lived his entire life without one and proclaimed that Ventures didn't need Soulmates because they had Science.</p><p>Brock's mom never put stock in soulmate markings because her soulmate ditched her and their two sons after less than five years of marriage.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Thaddeus Solomon Venture

**Author's Note:**

  * For [theblindtorpedo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/theblindtorpedo/gifts).



> This can be read as a companion piece to "The Fault In Our Quiz Shows", but it's very different in tone despite being set in the same universe. While this is a Soulmate Marking AU it is compliant with the canon timeline and major events.
> 
> Apologies to theblindtorpedo, I promise my next VB story is much happier. 
> 
> I used "Solomon" for Rusty's mysterious middle name because it seemed gloriously pulp novel appropriate. Big thanks to theblindtorpedo for helping me pin down a good name!
> 
> The majority of Brock's chapter is set during Season 4.

_**Thaddeus Solomon Venture** _

Rusty grew up with the unwavering belief that soulmate markings were for the weak-willed and he'd never have one appear. After all Jonas Venture lived his entire life without one and proclaimed that Ventures didn't need Soulmates because they had Science. And in the case of Jonas Venture a never ending parade of beautiful intelligent bedfellows. He instilled in Rusty that importance for a Venture to have no weaknesses, to stay strong in the midst of any isolation or adversity.

It therefore came as a wholly unwelcome shock when Rusty rolled out of bed the morning of his thirteenth birthday with a small but terrible rash under his left buttock. Even though he hadn't visited any exotic locales in over a year (amazing how boy adventurers and manly discoverers were lauded, but gawky teen would-be-explorers were left at home) Rusty assumed it was a nasty bug bite or a mild tropical fever symptom. No biggie, he was Rusty Venture.

Only it itched more fiercely as the day went on even after his shower. Finally during late afternoon he caved and got out a hand mirror to inspect the rash. A raised blur of a signature greeted him and Rusty promptly lost the contents of his lunch.

Later H.E.L.P.E.R. brought him soup in bed and he napped fitfully. Finding out he very much did have a soulmate was not how he wanted to spend his birthday. The only upside to having everyone forget your birthday and not be at home was that no one was there to see you get blotchy faced from crying and sicking up.

A week later when Jonas returned home from a daring expedition a certain robot (who was never totally forgiven) tattled that Master Rusty had manifested his soulmate marking.

To his credit his father didn't ask to see it or belittle him. He only quirked a strange smile over breakfast and said, “It's nothing to worry about, Rusty. If you don't like them or don't meet them you're no less than you ever were. You're stronger than you think.”

No less, indeed he wouldn't be lesser than before that hateful smudge! The problem was shoving away the nagging hope that he would be more. That maybe just maybe he'd be one of the lucky ones whose mate inspired them to be better, whose life got became richer and sweeter, he could even bear the pain of losing them if he could only know that it'd be wonderful instead of just awful. Because knowing his luck it'd be misery start to finish.

The one upside to having such a bizarre placement of his marking was that he didn't need to buy privacy jewelry. The downside was that he was Rusty Venture he didn't trust even the most discreet doctor to examine him without a bandage or industrial strength concealer. Team Venture was the absolute worst at humiliating him and the thought of one of them finding out turned his stomach.

(Except for Kato. Not only was Kato practically voluntarily a mute he was the only one who never forced Rusty into awful situations and defended him even from his teammates' pranks.)

It took another three years before the smudge cleared up enough for Rusty to make out the letters B and S which figured. Four years after that on his twentieth birthday with the aid of two mirrors he finally saw the name and got sick all over again.

Of course it was a man's name. Of course his body knew about the dreams he's had all through puberty. Not that he didn't find women attractive it was just comparing a puddle and a tidal wave for the effect they had on his traitorous body.

When the dry heaves and sobs subsided Rusty decided that he would never ever ever search for his stupid soulmate. Team Venture would never let him live it down. His father would be disappointed. And the rest of the world would have a good laugh over the fate of their once beloved child star.

College brought mercy in the form of uppers. Anything that kept him from thinking, from dreaming, from wishing. His freshman year roommate Pete liked to flaunt his jeweled privacy cuff and in a moment of extreme weakness Rusty confessed he had a soulmate marking. In a moment of jittery pill-fueled rage Rusty threatened awful super science consequences if Pete let the secret out.

Then if finally happened.

Senior year he was assigned Brock Samson for a roommate. He hoped against hope that the name was a coincidence. The first brush of their arms when Brock brought in his duffel bag confirmed it. An electric tingle leapt up Rusty's spine. Samson seemed utterly devastatingly unaffected.

Right.

Rusty would be in that lovely demograph of people whose soulmates didn't have the matching name. Either they had no marking at all or they sported a different name on their mark.

Because why should he expect anything else in life.

If he started adding more to his current pill cocktail it was between him and his shitty body and his even shittier life.

The defining moment of his awfulness was solidified when his father died on the same day Samson was expelled because his first thought was:

_At least Dad will never have to know._

**Coda:**

Every year Rusty expected the other shoe to drop, for Brock to finally leave them. When he finally does it hurt more than Rusty anticipated. Twenty years of living with his unrequited soulmate and raising a family was still better than he deserved.

But he's still glad that Hank and Dean have yet to show a mark.  


	2. Brock Samson

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> His marking came in at eleven years old which was younger than some but not record breaking young or anything. It was on a weird place on his backside and wasn't worth caring about. The only reason he knew it was there because his brother saw it when they came back from the swimming hole that summer.

_**Brock Samson** _

Brock's mom never put stock in soulmate markings because her soulmate ditched her and their two sons after less than five years of marriage.

“It only means as much as each partner wants it to mean,” she never said it bitterly only practically. “It just meant you were compatible with a person.”

So whatever Brock didn't really care one way or another. Soulmates could only disappoint you if you believed in that hype.

His marking came in at eleven years old which was younger than some but not record breaking young or anything. It was on a weird place on his backside and wasn't worth caring about. The only reason he knew it was there because his brother saw it when they came back from the swimming hole that summer.

“Your soulmate's name is loooong,” his brother teased cheerfully. “I hope they have a nickname!”

He's almost curious enough to ask what that long name is, but before he can decide his brother announces that it's still too blurry to see clearly.

“There's a T, an S for the middle name, and a V for the last name! Maybe Theresa Sophia Vanderbilt? Tamara Sara-anne Vansloot? Tatiana-”

“I don't wanna think about it,” Brock ended the speculation then and there. “Look at mom and dad. It doesn't matter in the end what it says on your skin. You gotta make your own choices.”

When his mom found out she ruffled his hair and said, “I know you'll be happy no matter what.”

Which duh he would because the best way to be happy was to totally ignore soulmate bullshit and do what he wanted.

On occasion his dates asked him if he was looking for his soulmate, asked him if they should read out the name, asked him if he knew if it was a platonic soulmate or a romantic soulmate.

“Dunno, don't care. Let's go again,” was invariably the answer.

OSI was the only place where his marking mattered oddly enough.

“You've got to get it covered up with a tattoo or undergo a painful removal, buddy boy,” Colonel Gathers told him his first day on the job. “Not only does it reveal your identity it puts your soulmate in danger and gives your enemies an insane amount of leverage!”

“Do whatever, I never cared for that nonsense anyway.”

Gathers raised a skeptical eyebrow, but didn't challenge Brock's answer.

For OSI records the marking gets photographed, scanned, and put on microfiche. Brock never bothered to check it, but he had a sneaking suspicion that Gathers had seen it.

Brock figured whoever had his name marking was probably doing okay since they didn't come looking for him. He hoped they were happy with their choices because he was certainly happy with his. If he didn't join the OSI he'd have never had twenty years of raising a family and finally having a home.

Leaving the compound hadn't been easy, but the boys were old enough to understand that there were ways he could better protect them from afar and Doc would be fine with whoever his replacement was. They didn't stop being family just because he wasn't living with them anymore.

“Why do you think you were chosen for Operation Rusty's Blanket?” Gathers asked him one night at S.P.H.I.N.X. headquarters when the rest of the squad was asleep or on patrol.

“Because I was best suited for the mission,” Brock shrugged and downed his shot. Why did Gathers think it was important to bring up now?

“You had unique qualifications. It strikes me that you may be unaware of what they were.”

“Meaning?”

“It's not often that an agent's soulmate comes under our protection,” Gathers poured them both another shot. “It kills two unwieldly birds with one secret agent stone, they get protected and their bodyguard will never be tempted to abandon their post or compromise their assignment. You can imagine the brass were thrilled that we had a Venture soulmate on the roster, first time in more than half a century.”

“Are you saying that Doc was my...?” The last twenty years clicked into place and for the first time Brock felt regret at leaving the Ventures.

“What you allergic to the word, Samson? He's your soulmate and you'd know that if you'd ever read your mark.” Was it his imagination or did Gathers actually look annoyed with him?

“Well it's not exactly in an easy to view place and I don't exactly buy into romance.” Two shots in quick succession now. They burn on their way down his throat, but Brock can't find it in him to care.

He didn't ask for proof because he knew that Gathers would provide any proof he cared to see. He didn't ask for proof because the memory his first day at university was still seared in his mind. At the time he dismissed the goosebumps and warmth in his chest for excitement at starting his new life.

“No one ever said anything about romance, Samson,” Gathers answered dryly.

“It doesn't matter now,” but Brock knew the words to be a lie the moment they left his mouth. Even though it didn't change much for him it probably felt an awful lot like rejection if Doc had his matching mark.

“That's the biggest load of bologna I've ever heard, Samson, and I lived through the Reagan years!”

If he snuck back into the compound that night to smoke in the living room no one had to know. And if he sat outside Doc's bedroom door for an hour listening to his family sleeping it was no one's business. Even Hatred did give him a dirty look when he got up to go to the bathroom.  

**Author's Note:**

> Follow me on [tumblr](http://juniperstreet.tumblr.com) for fic snippets, open drabble requests, and other miscellany!


End file.
